


Little Red Riding Da Hood

by donato



Category: Emergency!
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9714824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donato/pseuds/donato
Summary: Once upon a time there was a man down call. Two strong paramedics ride up in their red squad known as Little Red. However Little Red gets taken away from her owners. And so starts an adventure for them all. However not all fairy tales are nice and for one certain dark haired paramedic this adventure is more like a nightmare.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Little Possum](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Little+Possum).



> With a big thank you to my Beta, she always makes my stories better.

“I’m telling ya, Roy, it’s gonna be great.” Johnny was in the middle of his latest rant. 

“I don’t know, Johnny. I don’t think it sounds too safe and I can’t see it becoming a thing, if you know what I mean.” Roy replied for the umpteenth time. 

“You need to have vision Roy! It could work, ya know. I admit I still have some things to work out but it’s all doable.” Johnny then resettled back against the seat in Little Red. 

They had just arrived at Rampart to get supplies. Dixie was talking to another nurse at the nurse’s station and the occasional laugh could be heard. The head nurse turned around sensing she was being watched and saw her two favorite paramedics walking down the hallway. Quickly finishing her conversation with the other nurse, Dixie turned her attention to the two men now approaching her desk. Johnny was pulling out a list of supplies from his shirt pocket while Roy was swinging the HT from his wrist.

“Hello Tiger, Roy. What do you need today?” Dixie asked as she put her pen behind her ear and got down from the stool to make it to the supply cabinet. 

“Good morning, Dix. Just need a few things. Here’s the list.” Johnny said as he put it on the counter. 

Dixie took the list and started to gather the items for the guys. Roy poured them all a cup of coffee while Johnny helped Dixie gather the supplies and crammed them into a box to make carrying them easier. Johnny started telling Dixie his latest idea which he had got while at the bank filling out a withdrawal slip. 

“So you got this idea by looking at a pen on a chain swinging off a counter?” Dixie asked, wondering how he made the jump from a pen to his latest idea. Try as she might, her brain didn’t make the connections that Johnny’s obviously had. She looked at him trying to work out if he was a genius or an idiot. She decided the jury was out. 

“You all lack vision.” Johnny said when he saw the look on Dixie’s face. “It’s the last time I’ll share my great ideas with you, any of you.” Gathering up the supplies he left his untouched coffee on the counter and told Roy he’d be in the squad when he was ready to leave.

“Guess I’d better be going and smooth some feathers.” Roy said to a bemused Dixie.

“I’ll catch you both later no doubt. Be safe.” Dixie added on as she saw Roy put the HT up to his face and acknowledge a call out.

Climbing into Little Red, Roy told Johnny they had a call to a man down in an area of town known as ‘The Hood’. Donning their helmets, they set off to the address in the less than salubrious neighborhood. Pulling up outside a rundown house with a fly screen hanging off its top hinge and leaning at an angle against the dilapidated house, the guys got out of Little Red with a certain amount of trepidation. 

“Are you guys the firemen that fix sick people?” A man in his twenties asked as he hitched his jeans up his scrawny body.

“Yeah, are you the guy that called?” Roy asked as he and Johnny were getting their supplies out of the compartments. Johnny put his helmet inside the compartment as it was annoying him more so than usual today.

“Yep, I’m Leon, but it’s my brother, man. He’s not doing well. Ya gotta hurry, man, I think he’s dyin'.”

With their gear unloaded and racing into the ramshackle house, the man led the way to his brother who was lying on the couch clutching his stomach. 

“Hi, I’m Johnny and this is my partner Roy. What’s your name and where does it hurt?”

“I’m Samuel and it’s my guts, man. They have been churning up all morning."

Johnny was getting the man’s vital signs while Roy was setting up the biophone. Johnny started asking questions about the man’s current condition while palpating his stomach. He relayed all the information to Roy who in turn passed it on to Dr Kel Brackett. 

“Looks like you have won yourself a trip into the hospital. We need to put a line in you and start some IV fluid. We have an ambulance coming to take you in.” Johnny told Samuel.

When the ambulance attendants turned up, Samuel was loaded onto the stretcher, and Roy opted to go with the patient and Johnny would follow in Little Red.  
Johnny tapped the doors of the ambulance as it took off to Rampart. Johnny went back into the house to clean up the mess from their administrations. He never noticed that the brother never came back in with him. 

Giving the room one last look and satisfied that he had everything, he collected the trauma box and made his way outside. The door clicked behind him locking him out of the house. Johnny was temporarily blinded having gone from the dark into the bright light. He shaded his eyes while climbing down the porch. Arriving at the pavement he went to where Roy parked Little Red to find nothing but empty space. He looked to his left then to his right. No Little Red anywhere. This can’t be happening, Johnny thought. The HT was with Roy as was the biophone and as far as memory served there was nothing in the trauma box that resembled a means of communication. With his shoulders slumped and worry gripping his gut, sweat broke out across his brow as he realized Little Red had been stolen and they were in deep, deep trouble. For once Johnny wished that Brice had been on as he always made sure that whoever was driving removed the keys and locked all the doors. Roy and Johnny were a little bit lax in that department.

Meanwhile unknown to Johnny, Leon was driving Little Red to the hospital. He just had a few things to do on the way. Firstly, he stopped at his cousin’s house to tell him about Samuel. The cousin, Julian, elected to come to the hospital too. Leon showed him his latest ride. 

“Cool, man. Where d'ya score this from?” Julian asked.

“The firemen guys brought it over so I took it to get me to the hospital. How else was I gonna get there, man?”

The next stop was a couple of blocks away where Leon picked up his laundry and popped into a 7-11 and got milk and bread. Julian wanted some beef jerky so Leon went back in and came out with that and a couple of cans of soda.

Meanwhile Johnny was looking for a phone. He had a few phone calls to make and he wasn’t looking forward to any of them. He knocked on the victim’s house and got no reply. He then went to a neighbor’s house and rapped on their door. There was no reply at that house or the other four that he tried. His next option at this point was to see if he could get a ride to Rampart or the station. The road wasn’t exactly busy, so picking up the trauma box he started to walk back to the station which was just slightly closer than Rampart, give or take. 

\---***---

Roy was pacing the floor at the base station. He had handed the patient over ages ago and thought that Johnny would’ve been here by now. He used the HT to raise Johnny but he wasn’t answering which in itself had Roy worried as Johnny never ignored his partner calling him. He phoned the station and got through to Captain Stanley, hoping that Johnny had contacted them in case there was a mechanical problem with Little Red. Hearing that there hadn’t been any communication from Johnny and with alarm bells going off in both Roy and Hank’s minds it was decided to contact Dispatch and inform them what was going on. Hopefully they would take over trying to contact Little Red. 

Cap instructed Roy to stay at the hospital in case Johnny turned up. Meanwhile Cap was going to phone LAPD and just mention the dilemma they had and ask them to keep an eye out for the squad. He informed Roy that they were going to take Big Red to their last call out address and see if Little Red and Johnny were there. Then they would swing by the hospital and pick him up on the way back to the barn. The plan was solid. Everything was set and should run like clockwork apart from two things. Johnny was taking shortcuts down alleyways to get back to the station and Little Red was being taken on a joy ride through the hood. Neither man nor vehicle was where they should’ve been.

Roy went and sat in the Doctors Lounge. There was nothing he could do. He told Dixie where he was in case his errant partner finally turned up. He fixed himself a cup of coffee and waited.

Johnny was about four blocks from the call out address. He figured he was about four miles from the station. If he could hail a cab, he would get there a lot quicker. He wasn’t in a very good area and the quicker he was out of it the better. He was about halfway through an alleyway and just coming up to a main road when he saw a dark shadow cross his path of sunlight. 

“Don’t make a fuss and nobody will get hurt. Give me your money, watch and whatever you got in that box you’re carrying.” The man was about thirty, dirty, malnourished and had very bad teeth and breath. His hair was oily and lank and matted in places. 

Johnny surmised he hadn’t seen the inside of a shower let alone held a toothbrush in a very long time. “OK. OK, man. Take it easy. I ain’t out to hurt ya. I’m just gonna put the box down here on the ground, alright, while I get my wallet out.” Johnny said while noting the gun the guy held pointed at his chest. The hand holding the gun had a slight tremor and Johnny thought the guy was probably hanging out for a fix. It wasn’t turning out to be a good day for Johnny. 

“Put ya wallet and watch on top of the box and then take three steps back and get on ya knees.” The junkie mugger told Johnny.

Johnny complied and did everything the man told him to do. He had a pale band around his wrist where his watch used to be as he placed that and his wallet on top of the trauma box. Johnny was doing a quick rundown of the trauma box inventory. There was nothing in there that would be useful to the junkie. Bandages, tapes, splints and gauze wasn’t high on a mugger’s agenda Johnny thought. He thought correctly. When Johnny was safely three steps back and on his knees, the mugger approached and quickly snatched the wallet and watch. He stuffed them into the back pocket of his torn and grimy jeans. He opened the trauma box expecting to find anything but what he did.

“What’s this?” He asked surprised at what he saw.

“I’m a paramedic and there are only bandages and medical supplies to fix up cuts and broken bones. There’s no drug’s in there, just what you see.” Johnny told the guy while trying to keep the guy calm and not agitate him anymore than he already was.

“That’s no good to me. You’re gonna pay for that.” No sooner than it was out of the guy’s mouth than the gun came down hard on the side of Johnny’s head. As Johnny fell to the ground with his hands protecting his head, a sharp pain exploded in his abdomen and chest where the mugger kicked him viciously when he was down with his steel capped boots. The last thing Johnny heard before passing out was the sound of his ribs breaking as the mugger kicked him one last time over his left upper back. He never heard the sound of those same boots running away down the litter strewn alleyway after a few minutes.

The men were all in Big Red looking out for any sign of Little Red and Johnny as they made their way to 1228 Handicott West, cross street Simons. When they got to the call out address for the squad, they found it deserted and no Little Red anywhere in sight. Mike did a well executed 3 point turn and headed Big Red towards Rampart.  
Maybe Johnny had a mechanical failure or blown fuses and couldn’t use the microphone in the cab. Cap was thinking of a 101 possible scenarios that might possibly fit what was going on today. He did have to rule out Chet’s idea of alien abduction or Johnny driving Little Red into an underground labyrinth with giant ants or spiders or worms. Chet watched far too many cheesy films and his imagination was getting away on him. The men drove by a litter strewn alleyway without noticing a crumpled body dressed in navy blue pants and a light blue top that was slowly turning red where the blood from a head laceration was bleeding profusely down and onto the shirt.

\---***---

“We need some music, man.” Julian said to Leon as they left the parking lot outside the 7-11 store. “Let’s go to Spike’s crib. He got good sounds, man. He’s also got some grass that is loaded with the good stuff.”

Leon smiled back and made an illegal U turn and headed to Spike’s place. The hospital could wait. Five minutes later Leon pulled up outside Spike’s pad, the cousins got out and made their way into the drug den. They were warmly greeted by Spike and his gang and before long were toking on a joint. Little Red was quiet apart from the repeated calls from Dispatch asking for Squad 51 to respond. The music blaring from Spike’s surround sound system drowned out anything coming from 20 feet away.

Big Red finally pulled up to the side of the ED doors. “Wait here.” Cap told his crew while he disembarked and entered the corridors of the ER.

Dixie was the first to see Hank and gave him a warm smile. “No sign of Johnny yet I take it?” Dix said to Hank as he was looking around for his missing paramedics. 

“No, I take it Johnny hasn’t turned up and picked up Roy.” Hank asked.

“No. Roy’s in the Doctor’s Lounge and knowing Roy he’s probably walked a groove into the floor by now out of worry. Let’s go check.” Dixie said as she swung her shapely legs off her stool and made her way towards the lounge with Hank walking beside her. Roy abruptly stopped pacing and turned sharply towards the door as it opened thinking it was Johnny at long last with some wild story about why he was late in arriving. Instead he saw the concerned look of Dixie and Hank staring back at him. 

“Any word yet about Johnny’s whereabouts?” Roy asked both of them, hoping one of them knew something. 

“Sorry Roy. We are just as much in the dark as you are. Dispatch is trying to raise Johnny on the radio and LAPD has an APB out on Little Red and Johnny. We just have to wait. We went to your call out address and took the route we thought Johnny would’ve taken to get here but we didn’t see Little Red anywhere. Let’s go back to the station and wait there. I believe a police officer is coming to get a statement from you and the Chief is coming over if we haven’t heard anything in the next 30 minutes.” Hank said.

Roy placed the coffee cup he had been holding, while pacing back and forth, into the sink and ran water in it to help with removing the coffee rings inside the cup. The three walked out of the room with Roy promising to phone Dixie with any news and Dixie returning the promise should she see Johnny first.

Roy climbed into Big Red and Mike started the engine and steered her home, back to the station. True to Hank’s word there was a patrol car parked outside Station 51 waiting for their return. The appearance of the cop car made Roy’s stomach lurch and heart ache. Where are you Johnny? He thought, not for the first time that day. Vince made his way up to the engine as the men were getting out. Hank told Roy to go into his office while he indicated to Officer Vince Howard to follow.

Roy told Vince everything that he knew, which wasn’t much. He didn’t need to furnish a description of Johnny as Vince knew him just as well not to mention the uniform he was wearing. He promised to be in touch and hoped he had eased the men’s fears by saying that every patrol car out there was looking for Johnny and Little Red. Even CHP officers were on the lookout in case Johnny was on the highways for reasons unknown. 

After Vince left, Roy desolately made his way into the dayroom where he sat down dejectedly on the couch and let out a heavy sigh. Hank followed and made his way over to the coffee pot and poured two cups of coffee and placed one in front of Roy.

“Here, I think you need a cup of joe. I’m sure we will hear some good news soon. I’m just interested to see what story Johnny will come in with when he gets back. Knowing him it will be something wild and wonderful.” Cap said trying to soothe Roy’s troubled soul.

“Yeah…. Yeah, ya right. Knowing Johnny, it will be something out of this world.” Roy went along with the charade. Nobody was fooling anybody. 

A quiet gloom settled over the room and the quiet ticking of the clock was the only sound until a car door was heard slamming out by the back parking lot. Chief McConnikee entered via the back door and several expectant heads fell in dismay as they realized it wasn’t Johnny. Even though they knew he would be entering from the apparatus bay their anxiety made them hope that Johnny would appear from any door. They didn’t really care as long as he just turned up. Chief McConnikee could sense the tension in the air and see the strain in the eyes of the men. He was very tempted to stand them down but the fire risk was high these summer months and an arson bug was causing more than enough call outs for the men in the Carson area. He decided they all needed to be busy and Roy could work on the Engine if a replacement paramedic or squad couldn’t be found.

“Hank, men,” McConnikee said in way of acknowledging them all, “No news I take it. I’ve got Dispatch calling every 10 minutes on all radio frequencies.” No sooner had he said it when Sam Lanier’s voice came across the speaker requesting Squad 51 to come in. It had been 90 minutes since Little Red and Johnny were last seen. Hank and the men retook their seats after McConnikee ushered them to sit down.

“No need to be so formal.” He said as he made his way over to the coffee pot and poured himself the last of the coffee. Mike got up and made a fresh pot. He had a funny feeling they would be drinking more coffee than usual until they knew what was happening with Gage.

“It’s like he just disappeared off the face of the earth, along with the squad.” Hank stole a quick glance at Chet and gave him a warning stare; Chet quickly closed his mouth with an audible snap of his teeth. 

Chief McConnikee then informed the men about their continuing to work due to the weather conditions and firebug out there. The men nodded their heads in agreement. There was nothing they could do and saw the sense in staying on duty as they would only go crazy if at home. This way at least they might be needed if they found Johnny or Little Red. Roy said he would work the Engine or as a paramedic again if there was a replacement squad and paramedic to be had. McConnikee said he would see what he could do and be back in touch. He signaled to Hank and the two men went into Hank’s office for a private talk. After a few minutes Chief McConnikee bade farewell to the men in the dayroom and a short while later a motor was heard turning over and his car headed out back towards HQ.

\---***---

A low groan woke up the crumpled figure that had been lying still for the last hour. A persistent dull throbbing was pounding away in his head. Johnny went to sit up and a sharp gasp escaped his lips as pain ricocheted around his ribs on his left side and into his abdomen. His muscle went into a severe spasm and Johnny collapsed back onto the ground from the small distance he had managed to sit up. He cried out in pain and went to stretch his muscles to break the cramp that had him twisted in on himself. The pain only got worse as his abused abdominal muscles protested at being stretched and put up their own version of pain and torture to add to what his ribs were supplying. His pain receptors were overwhelmed and he passed out again. His right arm still curled protectively but without any strength over his chest and his left arm fell limply to the ground. His once tightly curled fingers from abject agony going slack as unconsciousness once again swept over him, removing all pain, removing all sentience of who he was, where he was and what had happened, let alone why.

\---***---

“Pass it over here man.” Leon said to one of the cronies hanging out at Spike’s pad. 

The thick haze of marijuana smoke swirled around and clung to every surface it touched. The reefer was passed to Leon who took a long toke and passed it on to his cousin. He saw a woman in the corner of the couch and their bloodshot and doped up eyes met and a smile graced their faces as he gave her the come on. She stumbled to her feet and he took her hand and together they made their way upstairs. 

Julian was not having a good trip. He was feeling paranoid and needed to get out. He knew that they were all staring at him and he decided he had to get away real fast and to someplace where no one knew where he was. He got up and made his way to the front door. He climbed into Little Red with the heavy fog of weed trailing behind him. With furtive looks he started the motor and Little Red was once again riding The Hood, slowly and erratically. Julian was looking into the rear view mirror making sure he wasn’t being followed. He wasn’t using the blinkers so that he wouldn’t give away his intentions in case he was being followed. He saw the 7-11 convenience store up ahead and he pulled in at an odd angle half parking Little Red on the pavement as he swung open the door intent on getting food to satisfy his munchies. 

He left Little Red running, not bothering to turn it off as he was so strung out and paranoid it never occurred to him to turn the motor off and remove the keys. Julian was in the store for a very long time as he collected junk food galore to quell his insatiable hunger. By the time he got out of the store with his 2 bags of food Little Red was gone. Not caring Julian sat down on the curb and started to eat whatever came to hand first. After twenty minutes of solid eating and feeling less paranoid but incredibly drowsy Julian made his way back to his complex to sleep it off.

\---***---

“What does this do?” Alphonso asked his buddy Pedro.

“How do I know, amigo. Push it and find out.” Pedro said in an exasperated tone. So far Alphonso had asked him what this and that did as if he knew. The shiny red truck was just as much a mystery to him as it was to Pedro. Next minute a loud wailing noise broke through the silence at the same time Sam Lanier was asking Squad 51 to come in. 

“Whoa. I think that’s us making that noise, man.” Pedro said to Alphonso. “Turn it off. NOW! We don’t want no attention from the fuzz if they should hear it.” 

Alphonso hit a few buttons on the dashboard. The noise had him rattled and he wasn’t sure which button or switch he had flicked to elicit the siren. Finally, he had silenced the noise but a rhythmic clicking could be heard coming from the roof. Neither car thief knew what was causing the noise and seeing nothing untoward chose to ignore it. 

“What’s in the bags?” Pedro asked his friend.

After hearing the plastic bags rustling for a bit, Alphonso replied “Clothes and bread and milk, nothing interesting.”

“Where ya wanna go?” 

“Let’s pick up Lolita and Rosa and then go show Manny our latest wheels.” Alphonso offered as an idea. 

“Sounds like a plan.”

Having pulled up outside the Spanish sector of the projects, Alphonso sauntered over to his girlfriend’s place and talked Lolita into coming outside to see his latest ride.  
With Lolita in the cab they made their way to Rosa’s squat and soon she was squeezed into the front seat too. The girls were going through the bag of clothes but as there were no female clothes and they were too small for their boyfriends they threw the clothes out onto the side of the road as Little Red went further into ‘The Hood’ to Manny’s place. With a bit more leg room now that the clothes were out of the way, Alphonso started showing the girls what the switches and buttons did. They had seen the lights flashing when they stopped to get Lolita but didn’t know how to turn them off. So if they were still going it was anybody’s guess having played with all the switches again and made the sirens go. 

Sam Lanier’s voice came through the radio again, Lolita picked up the mic and pushing a button and said “10-4, over and out.” 

Immediately Sam’s voice came over the radio, “Squad 51, please repeat?” his repeated requests went unanswered for the time being. 

“Here, let me have a turn?” Rosa asked and took the mic out of Lolita’s hand. “I’ll have a cheese burger, fries and strawberry shake to go.” She said into the mic as she burst into giggles.

“Whoever you are please identify yourself and get off this frequency immediately. It is for emergencies only.” Sam told the young woman on the mic. It was being broadcast live over all LA County Fire Stations. 

At Station 51 five heads swiveled up and listened intently to what was coming through their speaker. When silence again reigned within the station, it was Roy who asked what everyone was thinking.

“Was that from Little Red and if it was where’s Johnny because that sure sounded like 2 different female voices to me?” 

Cap was up and on the phone to Dispatch asking to talk to Sam before Roy had even finished his question. Putting the phone down, Cap turned and informed the guys that Sam believed it was Squad 51 replying but like them, didn’t think it was Johnny on the other end of the mic. Cap then picked up the phone again and called the LAPD and asked to be put through to Officer Vince Howard or whoever was handling the case of the missing squad and paramedic. Soon he was talking to someone and the men listened in to the one sided conversation where Cap was telling the other person about the latest developments. 

“Well, it seems that they heard it too. They have a radio scanner tuned in to our Dispatch frequency and it’s all been recorded in case criminal charges need to be laid.” Cap sat down at the table with a heaviness in his chest and what felt like a knife going through his stomach. He realized that Johnny may be the victim of foul play and could be lying injured somewhere, or heaven forbid, he could be dead and beyond all help. He shivered involuntarily as goosebumps settled on his arms at the thought. Where are you Johnny he thought quietly to himself.

\---***---

Consciousness came slowly to Johnny the second time around. His vision was blurred and kept splitting into two. Nausea had taken a permanent lodging in his stomach and through the fog swirling in his head he knew he was going to be sick. Rolling onto his side he vomited up his breakfast and then some. The pain reawakened in his side and he screamed as sharp burning pain sent icicles of agony through his body. Another spasm of nausea saw him curl over and bring up more of the last cup of coffee or maybe it was the first. He was beyond caring. He just wanted it to stop.

Lying as still as he could he waited for his current misery to end and strength to return. He knew he needed help, he just didn’t know where he was or how to get the help that he so desperately needed. He rolled onto his stomach, trying to avoid the mess he had just made. The smell was enough to make his stomach lurch again. Waves of dizziness washed over him and his limbs felt weak. Sweat broke out across his forehead and Johnny succumbed to the darkness again. His face just inches away from his vomit. What Johnny hadn’t seen was the bright red blood that was mixed in with the vomit.

It was ten minutes before Johnny started to stir again. Whimpers broke out as he moved his lower limbs. He knew he had to get up and find someone to help him. He pushed up with his hands, raising his upper body off the potholed and broken asphalt. A weather worn flyer advertising a 10 % discount with every roll of film developed at Sanderson’s Photo and Camera Shop blew into Johnny’s face. He pulled it away not taking in the blood that was smeared on it from where it had touched his face. 

The pain in his abdomen, as it was stretched when he pushed himself up, just about made him collapse again. He knew he needed to relieve the tension on his abused muscles. He brought his knees up under him, scraping his shoes against the roughened surface of the asphalt. He sat there for a while on his hands and knees until he could breathe without gasping and the pain had settled into a quiet roar instead of the burning inferno it had been only a few short moments ago. His vision was still going in and out on him. Blood was running freely down his face as he had reopened the wound when he grabbed the paper off his face knocking the jagged tear into a new bleeding frenzy. 

Help me, Grandfather. Oh Great Spirit, Help me. I need help, please. He prayed as he slowly raised his right knee and pushed up from the ground clasping his right arm around his ribcage to offer it support. His left arm stayed on the ground helping to keep him steady as he made his way into a more upright position. He pushed down on his right leg and brought his left leg in by dragging it underneath him and slowly, very slowly he stood up until he was as upright as he could tolerate without losing consciousness again. He had bitten his bottom lip fighting back the pain and silencing his screams as he had slowly made his way up. Little islands of blood adorned his lower lip and slowly trickled down his chin. With all the pain Johnny was feeling he never noticed this new one.

With his left arm outstretched he stumbled, hoping to find something to help him lean against. He was searching for a wall, a dumpster, a car, anything to help him stay upright. Taking tentative steps he made his way along the alleyway. He staggered from one step to the next. His left shoulder hit something hard and the jarring to his body caused his knees to weaken with the pain and he let out a pained groan as he struggled to stay upright against wave after wave of excruciating pain that made him want to curl up and die. He stopped and tried to focus on what had stopped his progress. He couldn’t see too clearly but it looked like a drainpipe. He put his hand out a bit more and felt the coarse texture of bricks against his palm. His fingers felt the slight indents where mortar sat between the bricks. He had found a wall. He could have cried with relief if he only had the energy and knew it wouldn’t hurt.

Using the wall to help guide him out of the alleyway and into the bright light of the sidewalk, he suddenly stumbled as the wall left his hand and went round a corner. He was too groggy to recognize the increased noises of traffic and people as they walked by. People saw his state of obvious distress and not wanting to get involved ignored him and walked around him. Mothers grabbed their children closer to them and rushed passed him. 

Johnny took another staggering step leaving the security of the wall behind him and faltered as he walked into a young woman who wasn’t expecting him to move towards her in a disorganized manner. His piercing scream and collapse at the feet of the young woman, as she pushed him away, unnerved her as she quickly continued on her way leaving the totally unconscious man on the pavement. She wiped his blood off her hand on her jeans, as she quickly left the scene. People continued to walk around the man on the sidewalk. Nobody wanted to get involved. The credo of ‘See Nothing, Hear Nothing, and Do Nothing’ was ingrained from an early age.

It was only because Johnny had collapsed outside the doorway to Collin’s Hardware Store that the owner phoned for the police to remove the drunk from his storefront. It was obstructing any customers from entering his business.

\---***---

Thirty minutes later Officers Krushack and Phipps pulled up outside the store to see the drunk blocking the doorway as reported earlier. “Just look at the state he’s in. God, he’s really out of it.” Officer Phipps said to his partner. “Help me get him up and into the back of the…. Hold on….. He’s wearing a uniform. He’s a paramedic!! I wonder if it’s the one that’s been missing all morning.” 

“How many missing paramedics would there be in ‘The Hood’ do ya reckon? Not that many, if you ask me.” Krushack replied to his partner as he got on the radio requesting an ambulance and paramedics to Collin’s Hardware Store, 7290 Holdgate Boulevard, cross street 4th Street East.

“He’s not looking too good. He’s breathing but I can’t rouse him.” Phipps said as he was trying to waken Johnny with a sternal rub.

“Don’t move him. Wait till the paramedics get here. They’ll know what to do.” Krushack was now beside his partner. He was looking at Johnny and documenting his injuries for his report. “I’ll go talk to the owner and see if he can shed any light on what happened.” 

“Good luck with that, buddy. You know the credo around here.” 

“Yeah, well it can’t hurt. The fact he’s a paramedic and helps people may help to loosen some lips, ya never know!” Krushack replied as he got up and brushed his knees down and then went into the hardware store to talk to the owner.

Mr. Collins was unable to help with their inquiries; same with the customers in the shop. Nobody had seen anything. Officer Krushack made his way outside and went and stood beside the alleyway. He peered down it out of habit and spotted a metal box with Trauma written on the front. He went down the alleyway were he got a better look at the box and then saw the blood and vomit not far from where it sat on the ground. There were some bloody handprints against the brick wall a bit further down by the drainpipe. Against the other wall was a brown leather wallet. Cards were scattered next to them with the name John R Gage on them. No cash or credit cards were inside the wallet. A union card for the International Association of Fire Fighters was in among the scattered cards littering the alleyway.

Krushack went back out to his partner and informed him of what he had found. He then got on the radio and requested Homicide to come out to the scene. He went back and protected the evidence until it could be photographed in situ and then retrieved and documented correctly. Homicide involvement was a standard procedure at this stage as should Johnny die they would be handling the case and they always got touchy if they weren’t involved from the get go. However, should Johnny survive then it would be handed over to another set of detectives outside of Homicide.

\---***---

“You don’t think that could be about Johnny do you. It’s in our jurisdiction and not far from our call out this morning.” Roy put to his Captain after hearing Dispatch request Squad 15 to ‘The Hood’.

“I don’t know Roy. I guess we have to wait until we hear something more. We can’t just get into Big Red and just turn up on a whim. Sorry, pal, much as I’d like us to be there we can only wait and see.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Roy sat back down and played with his coffee cup twirling it to the left and then the right by a finger tapping the handle. The coffee inside had long gone cold.

Chet had heard the call out for Squad 15 to go to The Hood for a man down. He had gone and looked on the larger map of greater L.A and saw the cross streets and realized it was only a few blocks from Little Red’s call out earlier today. He, like Roy, thought… well hoped really, that it might be Johnny that was the man down. He would prefer that Johnny wasn’t hurt but if he wasn’t he would’ve either phoned them by now or turned up with some lame brained excuse. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. His intuition was in fine form. Mike and Marco were sitting at the kitchen table. Unlike Roy, they had actually drunk their coffee but they were just as restless and sitting still was taking more willpower than either thought they possessed.

Boot got off the couch and the clacking of his nails on the hard floor sounded loud in the unnatural stillness at the station. He walked over to his dog bowl and took a few slurps of water before climbing back onto the couch and resuming his position from earlier. His big, soulful brown eyes looked around the room and then slowly dropped into a light slumber.

There was nothing for the guys at 51 to do but wait. 

\---***---

Little Red pulled into a back street Chop Shop. Manny was sitting in a little office to the side and had his feet up on the cluttered desk. He was making smoke rings from his tenth Marlboro that morning. His nicotine stained fingers held the cigarette close to his mouth at all times. He heard a truck pull up, and out of curiosity peered through the nicotine stained window in the office to see what was going on. He saw the red bumper and tires of Little Red then heard doors slamming and voices rose in greeting to guys busy dismembering stolen cars and making new ones. 

“Hey, bro. What you doing here?” Manny called out to Alphonso.

“Look what we found.” Alphonso offered as way of explaining their presence at his brother’s workplace.

Normally when Alphonso turned up it was to sponge money off him and maybe weed if he had any. “Where did ya get that from, man?” Manny asked seeing the full size of the red truck parked outside. He saw the two girls inside the cab and Pedro talking to Chico, admiring a corvette that had just been dropped off from one of his scouts.

“7-11” Alphonso laughed. “It was free with every purchase of Dr. Pepper.”

The brothers laughed and Manny went up closer to Little Red opening the side compartments and seeing a few labeled cases and oxygen cylinders. A quick search revealed no drugs and the contents were hastily and haphazardly put back into the compartments any way they would fit.

“It’s one of those fire trucks that those para-somethings drive. You know what I mean?” Manny said to Alphonso. “Bet they are in deep trouble over this. Didn’t they chase you or something when you took it?”

“Never saw any para-whatever guys. There was just a strung out junkie buying up large at the store and that was it.” Alphonso told his brother as he eyed Lolita putting on more lipstick, what is it with women that they put so much make up on their faces that they lose their face, he thought.

“It’s no good to me, I can’t break it down. You’ll have to dump it man before the pigs find ya.” Manny told Alphonso and Pedro who had now sauntered over to the brothers. 

Pedro pulled the cigarette out from behind his ear and lit it up. Two plumes of smoke came out from his nostrils as he exhaled. “C’mon, let’s go. The chicks are getting bored and I think we have been here long enough, let’s split.”

Pedro got back into the cab and started up the engine. Alphonso followed soon after having hit his brother up for some money. He scrunched the twenty bucks in his jeans pocket before telling Lolita to move her big butt out of the way. He ignored the look she shot at him. Instead he bummed a cigarette off Pedro and they took off with no set destination in mind.

\---***---

Paramedics Kelvin and Nigel, from Station 15, arrived outside Collin’s Hardware Store twenty minutes after being called out. They had further to come as they were covering part of 51’s territory seeing that the squad was missing. They saw a huddled figure lying on the sidewalk and a cop bent over him. They saw the dark blue pants but that was all that was visible to them really at this point in time. They pulled up and Nigel went and opened the compartments to retrieve the biophone and drug box. Kelvin followed with the trauma box and oxygen.

“JOHNNY!!” Nigel gasped when he saw for the first time who their victim was.

“What?!” Kelvin asked his stunned partner.

“It’s Gage from 51. He’s hurt real bad by the looks of it. Get onto Dispatch and let them know we have found 51’s missing paramedic.” Nigel told Kelvin. 

Kelvin saw the unconscious and heavily bleeding Johnny lying in a fetal position on the ground. The starkness of the blood streaming down his face showed vividly against his pasty skin. His breathing was coming in rapid short gasps and sweat beaded heavily across his brow and upper lip. He looked shocky and his pale and clammy skin aided that diagnosis. Kelvin went back to their squad and quickly notified Dispatch that they had 51s paramedic and requested an ETA on the ambulance. Kelvin came back to help his partner who was getting vitals on Johnny. He set up the biophone and got Brackett on the line. 

“Rampart, we have a code I at this address, he is unconscious and diaphoretic. There is substantial swelling and heavy bleeding from a large gash to his right temple and crepitus of his left ribcage with bruising. Vitals are pulse 102, respirations 32 and shallow, blood pressure 85/50. Pupils equal but sluggish. Be advised that the patient is John Gage.”

“Squad 15 insert IV and give 1 Liter Normal Saline stat, dress wound to head, take spinal precautions and monitor breathing. Apply oxygen at 4L. Has the patient been conscious at all? What is your ETA?” Brackett wanted to know.

“Rampart, negative on patient being conscious and there is no ambulance on scene yet, ETA to scene approximately 7 minutes according to Dispatch. We will advise of ETA when on route, Squad 15 out.”

Nigel and Kelvin then set about following Brackett’s orders. Kelvin got the needle in on the first attempt and Nigel had the bag of saline primed and ready to give. Then asking the cop to hold the IV Fluid bag, they carefully put a C-Collar around Johnny’s neck and using the other cop, expertly log rolled him onto their backboard. Nigel then dressed the wound to Johnny’s head and Kelvin applied the oxygen via a face mask over Johnny’s mouth. Nigel retook Johnny’s vital signs just as the ambulance approached with lights and sirens going. Johnny was loaded onto the stretcher and transferred into the back of the ambulance. Kelvin tapped the back doors twice and the ambulance, Johnny and his partner sped off to Rampart with lights and sirens once again going full blast.

Inside the back of the ambulance, Nigel was talking to Brackett relaying the updated vitals and ETA of 14 minutes. Johnny’s blood pressure was now 90/60 and his respiration remained unchanged. His respiration status and lack of response either verbal or to pain stimuli was proving to be of concern. 

\---***---

The phone in Captain’s Stanley office rang not long after Squad 15 arrived at the scene. Fearing that the news may not be good, Cap quickly strode into his office to retrieve the call in private.

“Hello, Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking ----- He has! How is --- Oh my --- How bad? ----- What about the Squ ---- No sign of it!! What do you mean, no sign of it? I don’t understand how Gage could be found and yet there is no sign of the squad. That doesn’t make sense ---- Yes, I understand. Requesting permission for Station 51 to be on call from Rampart, Sir ---- Thank you. Yes, I will. ----- Once again thank you for letting me know. Goodbye Chief.” 

Captain Stanley turned to go into the dayroom to tell the men what he had just been told. He didn’t need to go that far, all four remaining crew were standing just outside his office. The looks of worry and concern etched on their faces told Cap that they had heard his one sided conversation and knew that the call was about Johnny and that it wasn’t good. 

“Squad 15’s call out was indeed to Johnny. He has been found not far from 51’s original call out address. He’s been hurt.” At this point Cap had to put his hands up to signal his men as they all asked questions at once about how badly hurt was he and what had happened. “Hold on guys. Let me tell you everything that I know and hopefully that will answer your questions, I’m afraid I don’t know any more than what I’m about to tell you. Like I was saying, they found Johnny. He’s unconscious and has a head injury and possible chest injuries. The Squad is nowhere to be found. Johnny is on his way to Rampart as we speak. We have got permission to be on call from Rampart. The police are looking out for the squad.”

The crew all climbed aboard Big Red and made their way to Rampart. They beat the ambulance to the hospital and were there to see an unconscious, bloody and pale Johnny being wheeled into Room 3 five minutes after their arrival. 

\---***---

“I wanna go to the Mall. There’s a sale on at JoJo’s,” Rosa whined for the tenth time in as many minutes, “and there’s a pair of bell bottom jeans I wanna get.”

“Oh, that sounds good, let’s go to the Mall.” Lolita added, supporting her friend’s idea.

“In case you have forgotten, we are in a stolen truck. It’s not exactly small and easy to miss. I don’t wanna get caught driving no stolen truck and go inside again cos you wanna go to the Mall.” Pedro told the girls who instantly started pouting. “You wanna go to the Mall then I will let you off here and ya can find ya own way there.” Pedro was getting a bit fed up with the girls and their lack of comprehension regarding staying under the pig’s radar. 

“Fine, let us out then. You guys ain’t any fun.”

Having dropped off the girls the guys took off and decided to see Benny and the gang. They thought they might be able to entice them to a spot of drag racing with the truck, who knows it might be fun. They had nothing else to do today. 

\---***---

“Johnny, open your eyes for me, Johnny.” Brackett was saying as he flicked a penlight into eyes that weren’t taking anything in at this moment in time. “I want skull, C-spine, chest and abdominal x-rays. Bloods for Chem 7, cross match and full blood count. Dixie, put a Foley in and dip for blood. Get an OR put on standby. Oh, Dixie I want a chest tube tray set up just in case. His breath sounds are slightly diminished on his left side.” Brackett ordered in his deep baritone voice. The quickness of his requests belying the undercurrent of fear he held for his friend lying unmoving on the gurney since his arrival 5 minutes ago. 

The beehive of activity around Johnny signaled the level of anxiety and concern everyone participating in his care had. Dixie’s hands expertly glided the catheter in and she collected the urine as required. It was a clear yellow and she hoped that it would be negative for blood. Nurse Sally Lewis’s hand had a slight shake as she plunged the needle into the crook of his elbow and extracted the required bloods for the tests. Seeing that everyone was busy following his orders, Brackett went to the phone on the wall inside Rm 3. He personally booked an OR, just in case.

Dixie informed Brackett that the urine was clear when he put the phone down.

“That’s the first piece of good news so far. Just keep giving me good news like that Johnny and I will be a happy man.” Brackett said.

The banging at the door heralded the arrival of the portable x-ray machine. Brackett told the technician what films he wanted done yesterday and to keep the machine there as he may need more check x-rays taken, he then left the room. He spied the crew of 51 standing down from the treatment room. Making eye contact with Roy and Cap, he tucked his hands into his lab coat pockets and strode down to talk to five very anxious looking men.

“How is he, Doc?” Roy asked as he stopped in front of the men. 

“Right now we are still gathering data, Roy. We do know he has head and chest trauma. The severity of them is still to be determined. I am confident that at this stage they are the only injuries he has. We will know more after the x-rays.”

“Doc, has Johnny regained consciousness yet?” Roy asked.

“No…sorry, Roy but there has been no response from him yet. I’m not going to insult you by sugar coating it for you, his level of unconsciousness has me very concerned right now. There’s no response to any stimuli at this stage but we should now more, like I said, after we get the x-rays back. Now I have a question for you. Does anybody know what happened?” Brackett looked at the five faces standing before him and saw only bewildered and anxious looks staring back at him.

“It looks like he might have been mugged at the scene. Evidence was found suggesting this was the case. But how he got to there and why, and more importantly, where is Little Red? .... It’s anybody’s guess right now.” Hank said into the pregnant quietness that descended onto the group of men after Brackett asked his question.

“Nigel said that the trauma box from Little Red was found not far from Johnny, down an ally way. When we left the victim’s house, I had the biophone, handy talkie and drug box. Johnny had the trauma box and even though I can’t be sure, I think that he was walking back to get help as he had no means of communication and possibly no transport either. I, um,....left the keys in Little Red at the scene. It might be possible that it was stolen when Johnny left the house. I’m pretty sure it was there when we loaded the victim into the ambulance. We would’ve both noticed if it was gone when we took the victim out of the house.” Roy ended with a downcast look on his blushed face. He was facing disciplinary action at least and administration wouldn’t be very happy about a stolen squad. It wasn’t a good day for Roy either.

“That sounds plausible, but I suppose the only one that can tell us anything right now is lying unconscious in exam room 3.” Cap said into the answering silence. 

Six heads turned as the x-ray technician made his way out of the exam room clutching several plates against his chest. Dr. Brackett excused himself from the men and made his way back in to tend to Johnny.

\---***---

“One, two, three,” Carmen, one of Benny’s hanger’s on, yelled out over the roar and thrum of the two motors as they sat revving on a makeshift drag strip. She stood between Little Red and a white mustang. A dirty piece of rag was clasped in her right hand as she lowered it down to her side after doing the countdown. The mustang roared to life, and leaving the acrid smell of burnt rubber behind, quickly crossed the predetermined finish line. Little Red came up last. It had not been a smooth ride and Pedro had driven it hard, grinding the gears as he raced down the potholed back street with closed down shops and boarded up condemned buildings. Some brick dwellings had been burned out and a few hobos and teenage runaways had taken some derelict buildings over as their latest abode. The drag racing didn’t raise any interest from the apathetic residents. A few more drag races shattered the quietness of this dead zone of humanity where man’s mark on this patch of earth had seen better days.

Alphonso and Pedro followed Benny and his entourage back to his hang out. They parked Little Red outside the graffiti plastered house. Three lean and hungry Doberman dogs patrolled the outside behind the chain linked fence. They stopped growling when they saw their master get out of the mustang and walk over to the truck.

“Ya comin’ in or what?” Benny asked the two guys. They owed him money for their last baggie.

Pedro looked at Alphonso and shrugging his shoulders they got out of Little Red and followed Benny into his digs. Alphonso had the twenty bucks in his jeans and knew that Benny wouldn’t supply until they had paid for the last lot. He pulled out the twenty and settled his debt and bought another bag from Benny. They left not long after completing the drug deal and drove Little Red to a fast food burger joint. They ordered burgers and shakes and sat at the window looking out. It was Alphonso that saw the police cruiser first go past, and then do a U turn and come back slowly before it swung into the parking lot. Pedro nodded that he had seen it too. 

“Play it cool man, they don’t know it’s us. There are a whole lotta people in here ‘n it could be anyone of 'em or none of ‘em.” Pedro took another bite of his burger and took a loud slurp of his shake. Alphonso followed suit and absently rubbed his hand over the piece in his waistband. It was reassuring to feel it tucked in snugly and within easy reach.  
Pedro, as if reading his friends intentions shook his head. “Don’t,” was all he said. 

Alphonso returned his hand to the table and felt his shoulders relax. He had no idea that he had tensed up ready for action. They watched the two cops get out and approach the red truck. Their guns were drawn and they were sidling up to the doors. The guys inside couldn’t help but smirk at the cop’s approach. Meanwhile other diners now saw what was happening and were watching too, except they had no idea why it was of interest to the cops. They couldn’t hear what the cops were saying but they had a fair idea. One of the officer’s was now up by the driver’s side and peering in with his gun raised. He called something back to his partner and the guns were put back into their holsters. Then the partner went to the patrol car and picked up the mic. 

“I bet he’s calling it in.” Alphonso said to his mate that was watching the goings on outside avidly. 

“C’mon, let’s go.” Pedro had now finished his food and his finger was idly playing with the moisture ring on the table from his shake, while his eyes stared intently at the cops. 

“But I haven’t finished,” Alphonso whined, “‘n I’m hungry.”

“Then hurry up, that pig in the car knows me, man. He busted me last year for drugs.”

That was when Alphonso realized that he not only had a piece o him but a baggie as well and with his appetite for freedom overriding his hunger, they shoved their chairs away from the table and left from the other side door and walked away down the street towards their pad.

\---***---

“Johnny, can you hear me?” Brackett was asking again when he returned to room 3. There was no response from his friend as he lay pale and still on the gurney.

Blood had seeped through the bandage on his head. Brackett noted the bleeding but as it wasn’t heavy his concerned tempered down. It was Johnny’s struggle with breathing that had his concern ratcheting up a couple of notches. He looked at Johnny and saw the perspiration beading his face. Peering under the C-collar he placed his fingers down following Johnny’s trachea. There was tracheal deviation and Johnny’s Adam apple was slightly off center and his jugular veins were distended against his fingers. He quickly pulled out his stethoscope and placed it against Johnny’s chest. With his head bowed he moved the bell of the stethoscope across Johnny’s bruised chest. He listened, blocking out the extraneous noises in the room. What he didn’t hear unnerved him. The diminished breath sounds from earlier had now gone and there were no sounds at all on his left side. 

“Let’s prep him for a chest tube, Dix.” 

With all the equipment laid out on an instrument table and Johnny’s chest draped and covered in iodine, Brackett palpated the landmarks until he found the spot he wanted. Johnny’s ribs moved unexpectedly inward below his gloved fingers. With a no. 10 surgical blade he cut into Johnny’s upper left chest and happy with his initial cut asked for retractors and spread the incision. Feeling the undulations of bone and muscles under his fingers he located his next mark. Grabbing the scalpel he sliced the muscles between the ribs and keeping his finger in the freshly made hole reached for the chest tube. There was a whoosh of air as it escaped and a bubbling of blood covered his fingers. He then inserted the tube into the opening and connected to an underwater sealed chest drainage chamber. Brackett then stitched the tube in place and placed a thick paraffin laden dressing around the wound. Happy with the placement and the swinging of water with every inhale he instructed Dixie to obtain new vitals. There was a gush of blood stained liquid down the tube and it quickly settled at the 150mls mark on the chamber.

Johnny was breathing easier now and his neck veins were slowly returning to normal. His tracheal deviation will return to normal in time as the tension hemopneumothorax resolved.

“His bp is slightly improving at 97/60, pulse 100 and respirations now 28.” Dixie told Brackett. 

Dixie completed taking Johnny’s clothes off with the aid of her scissors and put a thin cotton hospital gown through his arms and then pulled it up over his shoulders before draping a blanket over him. The phone started to ring in the room and Brackett picked it up and apart from a few grunts he gave nothing away.

“I want two units of blood ordered, Sally. His hemoglobin is very low. He either has lost a lot of blood from that head wound or there is another source of bleeding. He looked at the chest drain and noted that there is now 220mls of blood in the first chamber. “Hmm, it might be the tension hemopneumothorax but knowing Johnny it could be something else.” Dr. Brackett pulled the blanket down and lifted the gown up and palpated Johnny’s abdomen once again. “Hmmm, what’s taking radiology so long.” He said into the quiet room. 

Restless, he took out his penlight again and checked Johnny’s pupils, noting no change. They remain sluggish but reactive to light. Thankfully the pupils are the same size.  
“His abdomen is slightly rigid. I think our young hose jockey has some internal injuries. Get on the phone to radiology, Dix, and chase up those x-rays. I also want a repeat chest x-ray to check the tube position.” Brackett wasn’t a patient man at any time and when one of his friends was lying injured in his ED he wanted things done instantly. Sometimes things just moved too slowly for him.

Malcolm, the radiology technician entered the room with a packet of films under his arms. He handed them to Brackett, who instructed him to do another chest x-ray before he left the room. With the films in his hand and his lab coat flapping behind him, Kel left the treatment room and strode up the corridor to his office so he could study the x-rays undisturbed.

Dixie helped position Johnny onto the x-ray plate before both she and nurse Sally left the room.

Brackett was looking at the films on his lightbox in his room. Johnny had three broken ribs on his left side and a 40% collapsed lung. There was also a small linear skull fracture over the right temporal region. It extended about 2 inches and subsequent x-rays showed no skull depression or blood collection. That was the second piece of good news. Johnny was, however, going to have a helluva headache Brackett thought. The C-spine was cleared and there in the abdominal x-rays was what Brackett feared he would find. Blood was obscuring the picture. Johnny would be making a trip up to the OR. His ribs on the left side were broken and were definitely displaced. It looked like three of them were protruding into his upper abdominal cavity. Kel was about to turn off his lightbox when he was paged to room 3 stat. He ran out of his room and back into room 3 to see Dixie and Sally supporting Johnny on his side in a log roll while he vomiting blood onto the floor. 

Roy, Cap and the rest of station 51 looked up when they heard the call go out for Dr. Brackett. Their hearts were racing as fast as Brackett was running into room 3. Roy was just about faint with anxiety. He so dearly wanted to be in that room right now helping his best friend and partner. Not knowing what was going on was killing him. Cap looked at Roy, and almost as if able to read his thoughts, patted him on the back saying “He’ll be okay, Roy. You just wait and see.”

Roy didn’t say anything in response as he couldn’t trust his voice to be steady.

Two orderlies entered room 3 and a couple of minutes later Johnny was wheeled out and taken towards the elevators. Blood was over his lower face and chest. His gown was blood stained as was his neck. The c-collar was off and a nasogastric tube was now coming out of his nose with a drainage bag attached. The bag was about a third full with dark red blood. An emergency bag of O negative blood swung from the gurney pole as Johnny was wheeled quickly to the elevator on his way to the OR.

The men from station 51 stood and watched as Johnny was wheeled past them. The whiteness of Johnny’s skin and the worried frown on Brackett’s face did nothing to alleviate their fears. In fact, Cap felt foolish for suggesting Johnny would be OK when they really didn’t know the extent of his injuries.

Dixie came out of room 3 a short while later. She saw the men from 51 milling around the waiting room and approached quietly. She put a hand out and got Roy’s attention with a soft touch and a gentle voice, “Roy, are you alright? He’s going to be fine. He just looks worse than what he is at this stage. Why don’t you all come into the Doctor’s Lounge and I will fix you all a coffee. Kel will be down soon and he can tell you what’s going on, alright.”

Dixie led the men into the lounge and set out six cups on the countertop. She then poured coffee into each cup and placed them on the table with milk and sugar for anyone who wanted it. She sat down at the table and the men followed her lead and fixing their coffees to their preference sat down either at the table or on the couch. Kel came into the room a few minutes later. He grabbed a coffee and then leaning with his back to the counter looked out to see 5 worried faces staring back at him expecting to hear good news but fearing they would hear only bad.

Kel cleared his throat and then started his run down of Johnny’s injuries. “Johnny had a tension hemopneumothorax and we had to insert a chest tube to relieve the pressure and help with his breathing. His breathing is more stabilized now. He also has a linear skull fracture with no depression or bleeding at the site; we will be monitoring that closely. So far he has not regained consciousness and although that is a worry his vitals and namely his neuro signs remain stable – that’s all good news at this stage. He had some rigidity in his upper abdomen and vomited a large quantity of blood. We inserted a nasogastric tube and have taken him to the OR. I believe he has internal bleeding and Dr. Cummings is currently operating on him. He’s one of the best general surgeons we have. We won’t know anymore until he comes out of surgery.”

Kel then took several sips of coffee and waited for the questions to start. It was Roy who asked the first of several questions. Kel went through each man’s questions with a patience he wasn’t known for. He empathized with their concerns and fears, as he too held them for his friend.

Dixie went back into room 3 and retrieved Johnny’s clothing, paramedic pin and badge. She put them into a patient’s property bag. She saw the large pool of blood on the floor with splash marks splattered away from the main bulk. The blood was drying at the edges. She got on the phone again and asked how long housekeeping was going to be as they needed the room cleaned as soon as possible. In truth, Dixie didn’t want to see her friend’s life blood on the floor anymore. If Johnny didn’t make it, the image of the blood with her footprints in it was already imprinted in her mind, and she didn’t think she would ever forget it. Silent tears ran down her face as she hugged Johnny’s clothes to her breast and she cried for the friend whose future was looking bleak no matter what Kel had just told 51.

She knew it, Kel knew it and Roy knew it. Johnny was critically injured. His blood pressure had dropped to 75/50 and his pulse had climbed to 136 before he was rushed to surgery. He was crashing on them and it would be a miracle if he survived long enough for the knife to cut the skin. It was a horrible waiting game. She could do without it. Sniffing the last of her tears away and vaguely recognizing the iron smell from the blood, Dixie left the room and made her way to Roy to give him Johnny’s belongings.

\---***---

“I need more suction, dammit!” the surgeon said to the scrub nurse. 

The nurse poked the suction tip into Johnny’s abdomen, aiming at the heart of the blood pooling around his internal organs. The blood felt warm as it went up the tubing, and past the nurse’s gloved hands. The loud gurgling and sucking noise was an intermittent distraction from the whoosh of the ventilator pushing anesthetic gases into Johnny’s lungs keeping him under.  
The surgeon placed a bloody glove onto the sterile handle of the overhead lights, angling them to get a better view of his patient’s opened body. So far the liver, pancreas and spleen were intact. He was making his way to palpate the stomach when he felt the tear at the posterior wall at the head of the stomach. Gastric juices and semi digested food matter had breached the perforation and now contaminated the peritoneal cavity.

“Prepare me a metronidazole and cefazolin antibiotic wash. We need to make sure we clean as much of this as possible. Right, let’s resect this baby.” Dr. Mark Cummings said to the scrub nurse. The circulating nurse went to prepare the wash as ordered. Dr. Cummings was busy clamping the stomach and using diathermy to cauterize the smaller bleeders. The deft fingers of the surgeon set about closing the perforation and then when he was happy that no leaks remained, he set about looking for the cause of the perforation. He found a rugged break of the posterior left 8th rib and asked for the patient’s chest x-ray to be placed on the lightbox inside the OR. He went up to the lightbox. His hands held in front of his chest as if in prayer and mindful not to touch anything studied the x-rays with an intensity befitting a medical student taking his finals.

“Get me Dr. Lyons on the phone and put it on loudspeaker.” He said to the circulating nurse. A short while later he was talking to the orthopedic surgeon three doors down.

“Gerry, hi it’s Mark in OR 3, I’ve got an emergency trauma patient on the table. He had a perforated posterior stomach from broken 8th, 9th and 10th ribs. They need to be put back into alignment…. Yeah…..How soon will you be free…. Hold on a minute Gerry, I'll just ask the Anesthetist. Sean, how’s the patient holding up? Gerry won’t be free for another 20 minutes and the patient needs his ribs wired at least, if not plated and screwed, as they may well pierce the stomach, lung, heart or pancreas with just a cough or wrong move.” Dr. Cummings informed the Anesthesiologist.

“His blood pressure has slightly improved, we’re holding at 90 systolic, better than the 68 when he went under. My main concern is that his pulse is slightly erratic and he’s throwing occasional PVC's. I sent some blood away to check his hemoglobin not that long ago. He may end up having a couple of units before he’s closed up. It will be a fine juggling act and I’d really like him off the table before too long but it’s pointless if he’s only going to re-injure himself. Given how weak he is, he could bleed out before we got him prepped, so once again my friend you aren’t asking for much, just a miracle.” Dr. Sean Frangello told his friend.

“Sean says it’s doable but we can’t afford to waste any time. Can your resident close up for you and you high tail it into here sooner rather than later...... Great, OK Gerry, we’ll see you soon.” Dr. Cummings returned to the table and requested the wash. He started the laborious job of doing a peritoneal lavage, ensuring the antibiotic mixture went under all the organs and then suctioned the bloody liquid away. Johnny’s chances of forming adhesions and peritonitis decreased with every milliliter of wash suctioned up the tubing.

Ten minutes later, Dr. Gerry Lyons entered OR 3. He went up to the lightbox and studied the x-rays. He let out a low whistle. “You say he only perforated his posterior stomach.” Gerry looked at Mark Cummings, who nodded but mentioned the collapsed lung as well. “I think his Guardian Angel must have been watching over him. He’s lucky he didn’t perforate his heart.” Gerry said as he made his way over to the table. He looked at the Anesthesiologist and acknowledged Sean behind the hat and mask.  
“This is going to take some time. How stable is he, Sean?” Gerry asked as the circulating nurse tied up a fresh gown and laid out the orthopedic surgeon’s gloves for him to don when he was ready.

“I’d like him off the table within the hour, two at a push, but then anything can happen and I’d prefer him to be out of my care when and if it does. I don’t fancy having to do CPR if it came to it, given those ribs.”

Gerry gave a low laugh and smirked at Sean. “Well let’s see how fast we can do this, huh? I’ll take an anterior approach since it’s already been made for me, thanks Mark.” The orthopedic surgeon then set to work on wiring Johnny’s broken ribs back together and using a fine plate and screws on two ribs to help stabilize them so that any chance of them separating again was not likely. There was enough give in them to allow for expansion and retraction for normal breathing. “I sure don’t wanna be this fellow when he wakes up. Every breath is gonna hurt like a son of a gun.” Everybody in the OR nodded their heads in agreement as the slow repair work continued.

\---***---

Dr. Cummings went to find the men from Station 51, but they were nowhere to be found. He saw Brackett coming out of one of his treatment rooms in the ED. 

“Kel, do you know where the firemen are? I want to give them an update on their colleague.” Dr. Cummings called out as he walked down to his friend who was now standing in the middle of the corridor when he heard his name.

“They got called out about an hour ago to a warehouse fire. It sounded like a big one. I think the arsonist has struck again from the sounds of it. They may be gone for some time and there’s no guarantee that they will be back when they are free. How’s Johnny doing?” Kel asked Mark who was now standing before him.

“He had a perforated stomach and I found a few broken ribs that Gerry is wiring together. He’s holding his own, just. Sean wanted him off the table an hour ago. There’s a bed for him in ICU, I believe.”

Kel nodded his head. “He has a linear skull fracture and hadn’t regained consciousness from the moment he was found. So far the injuries are stacking up against him. The only things in his favor are his age and fitness. God knows he’s gonna need all of that and more to get through.” Kel told the other Dr. He rubbed his hand through his dark hair leaving a ruffled mangle in his wake. “There’s going to be a lot of worried firefighters wanting to know the latest when they are free; that, my friend, I don’t envy you of. Just be aware that his partner, Roy De Soto, is also his next of kin. Station 51 is a very tight band of men so be prepared for a deluge of questions.”

“Now you tell me. You didn’t think to warn me before I got involved?” 

The two doctors laughed as they made their way to the nurse’s station. Kel to get another patient’s clipboard, and Mark to phone his wife letting her know he might be late tonight and would have a better idea in about three hours but wanted to give her a heads up. He had found that in the past when he had told his wife of an impending lateness that never happened she was delighted he had made the effort to get home earlier than planned and on the occasion when he didn’t manage it, she was full of concern for his tiredness. Either way it was a win-win for him, he felt. He ordered a bouquet of flowers from his neighborhood florist as an appreciation of his wife’s good humor and understanding. He instructed the florist to write “Just Because” in the card and let his wife rationalize it out. He then returned to his office to dictate his latest set of operation notes.

\---***---

“Right, that should do it. Let’s close him up.” Dr. Lyons said to the scrub nurse.

Dr. Frangello was very relieved that the surgery on his patient was over. He had had to infuse three units of blood and one of plasma. The patient’s vitals were hovering on the lower end of normal. The bp was 98/60, his pulse had come to and was sitting in the 90’s and his temperature was 97.4 degrees. All up that was a great improvement to the man that entered the OR 4 ½ hours earlier.

Once he was closed up, cleaned a bit and a warmed hospital gown and blankets put on him he was transferred to the Recovery Room. A handover was given to his nurse that would be looking after him. Another nurse put the monitoring equipment on and pushed buttons to get his blood pressure. Bags of IV fluid were checked and catheters emptied so a more precise fluid balance chart could be maintained. Drains were checked at insertion sites and their contents noted. The wounds were checked and blood marks noted.  
When everything had been done in that first 5 minutes, everyone but his nurse left the bed. She stayed at the top by his head, monitoring his airway. His breathing was a slow rhythmic rise and fall. His heartbeats made the monitor beep. It was a steady 85 beats a minute. His skin was cool and pale but dry. 

It was a couple of hours before Johnny was ready to go to ICU. He hadn’t regained consciousness yet but his vitals were stable enough for his transfer out of the Recovery room.  
Orderlies were called and with the nurse leading the way and the Anesthesiologist bagging the patient during the transfer, while watching the heart monitor at the end of the bed, Johnny slowly made his way into the elevator and finally into his cubicle in the ICU. 

Another flurry of activity ensued as the nurses in the unit swamped over the new arrival and he was transferred onto his new bed and monitoring equipment switched over and the Anesthesiologist reconnected him to the ventilator and set the pressures. Drug charts were reviewed and amendments made. Orders for bloods and arterial blood gases were issued for a few hours’ time. The quiet hubbub of the unit reasserted itself. Staff voices were kept low, while the whooshing and beeping of machines filled the air. Each occupied cubicle added their rhythm to the overall cacophony of the ICU.

\---***---

After several hours Big Red pulled into the station and five weary and soot covered men climbed out. Dried sweat and salt made their skin feel itchy and uncomfortable. A few groans made their way out of the two linesmen and Roy. The three men had been in the thick of it since their call out from Rampart shortly after Johnny was transferred up to surgery. Cap and Mike had watched from outside of the burning building but the heat that bathed their bodies from many feet away made them feel tired and slightly dehydrated.  
“I call dibs on the first shower.” Chet announced to the other men only to have Cap stop him with a call of his name. 

“Kelly, I think that Roy can take the first shower, don’t you?” He gave Chet a meaningful look and Chet backed down and mumbled that he could wait.

Roy was eager to phone Rampart and find out about Johnny. He had planned on phoning as soon as they returned to the barn. “It’s Ok, Cap. I want to phone Rampart and check up on Johnny. Chet can have the first shower, I, um, wouldn’t mind the second one though, if that’s okay with you Marco.”

“Not a problem, my friend. I’m also concerned about Johnny and eager to hear how he’s doing. Chet go ahead and have the shower buddy.” Marco told his friend. 

Chet realized that everyone was focused more on Johnny than their own hygiene and comfort. “Ahh, that’s okay, man. I’ll wait with you all. I, um, I want to know how Johnny’s doing too. The shower can wait.” Chet headed into the dayroom with the other men. Roy went over to the payphone and dialed Rampart ER. He got Dixie on the other end. She quickly summoned Kel over to the phone. Covering the mouthpiece, she told Kel it was Roy.

“Roy, Dr. Brackett here. Johnny’s come out of surgery well and settled in the ICU. He’s expected to make a full recovery from the surgeries. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, but it’s still early.”

‘Thank you, Doc. Will we be able to see him tomorrow?” Roy asked.

“I’ll put instructions in his chart. You know the visiting rules of the ICU. I think it will do Johnny good to have his friends around him. It might help to bring him out of his coma”  
After going into a few more specifics with the surgeries, Roy hung up the phone to find four men waiting patiently for him to repeat what he had been told. He would phone Joanne after he had cleaned up. 

Cap reviewed the KP duty. Johnny had originally been assigned the task but given the course of the day’s events and the lateness of the hour, prepping food and cooking it was going to take too long. “Who’s for pizza?” Cap asked.

Four voices agreed and started issuing their preferences and getting money out to cover the order. Roy went to the latrine to have the first shower. Cap, went into his office and phoned HQ. He had to find out what the plan was for his remaining paramedic and squad. He wasn’t long on the phone talking to Chief McConnikee when he heard Mike knock on his door. Repeating Dixie’s actions only a short while earlier, he covered the mouthpiece of the phone while Mike told him Bellingham had arrived. McConnikee had told him that Charlie was bringing a replacement squad over. Roy was stood down until the squad arrived.

\---***---

Even though he was still unconscious with no narcotics on board his breathing remained slow and shallow as if he was protecting himself from further pain. Johnny lay very still in the bed and the machines attached to him showed he was holding his own, as they say. A bag of blood was slowly dripping into him, drop by drop. Hopefully that would help to put some color back into his cheeks. He was ghostly white, only a few shades darker than the sheets that covered his bruised and battered body. The nurse came in and hung a bag of antibiotic to ward off any infection. She listened to his chest and appeared happy with what she heard. She turned her head as she heard footsteps enter the cubicle. Roy smiled at the nurse and introduced himself to her and mentioned his relationship to Johnny before she could ask. 

“He’s doing good, believe it or not. With all that’s happened to him and how bad he was when he got to OR, this is good. This is very good.” The nurse said as she wrote down Johnny’s vitals before checking his dressings and drainage bags. “I’ll be back soon.” 

She left the cubicle and returned a short time later and changed over the underwater chest drainage container as it wasn’t far off from being full. Just under 2 liters of blood stained fluid now resided in the chambers. Watching the water go up and down in time with the ventilator, the nurse gave Roy a smile and reminded him he had to go soon. His 10 minutes was just about up. 

Roy got out of the hard chair beside his partner’s bed and moved it away towards the wall. Clasping the lean and pale hand of his best friend once more, he gave it a tight squeeze while closely looking for any reaction. Johnny’s brow creased and a frown ghosted across his face for a brief moment before settling back to one of relaxed calm.  
“Johnny, Johnny, can you hear me, Junior?”

Johnny remained still, Roy squeezed Johnny’s hand again. Johnny moved his head against the pillow in response. “That’s it Johnny, keep it up, pal. You’re going to be alright.” Roy said as the machines continued to beep and whoosh around him. Roy heard a slight increase in Johnny’s heart monitor. Looking up at the machine he saw his pulse was now in the high 90’s. 

Johnny’s nurse came back into the room. “I saw an increase in his recordings from the main monitoring bank at the nurse’s station. I was coming to see what was happening.” She looked at Roy expectantly.

“I think he’s waking up. He’s responding to pain, here look.” Roy then squeezed Johnny’s hand again and Johnny rewarded his friend with a move of his left leg and pulled his hand away from the annoying stimulus. Both the nurse and Roy smiled. “I’ll let the doctors know. Why don’t you stay here for a bit and see if you can get him to open his eyes while the doctors make their way here.” She left the cubicle and made her way to the phone.

Roy was pacing in the ICU waiting room. He was eager to hear how it was going inside cubicle 8. While he was waiting Cap entered the room. He had come to spend 10 minutes sitting beside Johnny’s bed at the next visiting time. Roy quickly told him what had happened this morning. Both felt enlightened about Johnny’s progress so far and hoped it was the first step into a full and complete recovery. Neither wanted to admit it to the other, but Johnny’s lapse into a coma had them tossing and turning in their bed’s last night. Their minds took them to dark corridors with dire outcomes behind the doors they couldn’t help but open, now it seemed like a light was dimly glowing further down the corridor. This was the first time that both men were feeling hopeful since this nightmare had begun. 

\--***---

His recovery to full consciousness took three days, which, given the pain with every breath was a blessing at that stage. He kept asking the same questions and had trouble retaining the information. He was reassured by Dr. Early that this was completely normal and as his brain sorted itself out he would remember more. Try as he might he couldn’t recall anything of the day of the accident. In fact, he had lost two days preceding that fateful day. He couldn’t supply the police with any information about how he came to be where he was or what happened to the squad.

A respiratory therapist came in and started Johnny on breathing exercises and spirometry. Tears came to Johnny’s eyes while they submitted him to their version of chest torture they camouflaged as chest physio. It hurt his ribs for hours after their ministrations, but even he knew it was necessary. He was receiving IV antibiotics to keep any chest infection at bay. He had spiked a post op temperature and all the cultures had come back clear. It was ruled to be just a routine stress response and not a complication. On the morning of the fourth day, Johnny was moved into a surgical step down ward. He was receiving a high calorie nutritional intravenous supplement called TPN. His stomach still needed to heal so the nasogastric tube was put onto low suction, helping to rest his stomach. Ice chips were all he was allowed orally. Waves of nausea and vomiting persisted and regular anti emetics weren’t really making a difference. 

He not only had blurred vision but was nursing a major headache as well, and found the only respite he had was when he slept. Unfortunately, natural sleep was proving elusive now that he was more aware of the pain assailing his being with every breath and movement of his upper body. He was aided to sleep by IV sedatives. He didn’t like them at the best of times but this was one time he didn’t mind as the pain was off the scale at times.

He was feeling miserable by the afternoon of the fourth day. He was glad to be out of ICU but depressed when he thought of the long and painful road he had to a full recovery.  
Dr. Brackett was a co-attendant with Drs. Lyons and Cummings. They were all pleased with the progress Johnny was making, and Kel was doubly pleased there weren’t any complications for once. Although Johnny was progressing nicely he knew he was a long way off from discharge. He was still not allowed anything by mouth and had a chest tube and an abdominal drain sticking out of him. He still had the Foley catheter which he wasn’t happy about but he had to admit it was easier than using a urinal.

The drainage from Johnny’s collapsed lung although still trickling into the chambers was slowing down, and Dr. Lyons was pleased with this but had to tell his patient that the drain was in for another week or more at least. The latest chest x-ray showed he still had a 30% collapsed lung. Much to his disgust that meant the supplemental oxygen via nasal cannula had to stay. He contented himself that at least he didn’t need the face mask anymore.

Roy and Marco entered Johnny’s room later that evening. They had just finished doing a 12 hour shift and popped in before the end of visiting time. Chet, Mike and Cap were coming to visit the next day. Johnny was sleeping when his visitors entered his room. Normally a light sleeper, the swoosh of the door and footfalls of his friends didn’t wake him. He still looked quite peaky. He went to move onto his side and a low groan came out and he quickly resettled onto his back and the frown on his face slowly relaxed again as he went back down into a deeper drug induced sleep. Not wanting to disturb him, Marco and Roy decided to leave as quietly as they had entered and would visit him tomorrow. Johnny remained oblivious to their visit.

The next day Roy and Joanne entered Johnny’s room. Johnny was propped up in the bed with several pillows behind his back. He looked worn out and haggard. The respiratory therapist had finished an hour earlier and he was feeling miserable. His spirometer sat on his bedside table which had been placed over his lap. He looked at it with disdain. 

“Howdy partner.” Roy said as he entered the room. 

“Roy, Joanne, it’s good to see you.”

“Johnny, sweetheart, how are you doing? You’re looking pale, are you alright? Are you in pain? Should I get the nurse?” Joanne said as soon as she saw him wince as he went to sit up a bit straighter.

Johnny flopped back onto the pillows and braced his chest with his arms. He took a moment to get his breath before he felt he could relax his shoulders minutely and feel the small decrease in the wave of pain that swamped him with that small movement. “No, I’m fine, Jo. I just moved too quickly. Heck, I just moved period.” He went to laugh but quickly stopped as another wave of pain enveloped him. This time small beads of perspiration broke out across his pale forehead. 

“Johnny, when was the last time you had any pain relief?” Roy asked his stubborn partner who thought not taking any analgesia would get him out of the hospital quicker.

“This morning. They came with my morning dose of IV antibiotic. Really I’m good. I’m just getting over a visit from a disciple of Dr. Mengele.”

Seeing the blank looks on his friends faces Johnny elucidated, “the physiotherapist. I swear she was a Dr. Mengele follower. For all I know she could be him reincarnated. I swear she gets off on inflicting pain on people under the guise of medicine. She should be charged with causing grievous bodily harm. I’m sure she wouldn’t like her chest being pummeled by some ham fisted Nazi especially if her ribs were wired and screwed together.” Johnny had to stop talking to get his breath back. He hadn’t spoken this much in one go in days and he found it made him breathless. He wanted to take deep breathes drawing oxygen down deep into his lungs but pain relegated him to shallow breaths.

“I’ve just gotta go to the bathroom, Johnny. I’ll be back real soon.” Roy said as he made his way to the door. As soon as he was out of the room he approached the nurse’s station and asked to see Johnny’s nurse. 

“Hi, I’m his nurse. What’s the problem?” Nurse Carter asked.

“He’s in a lot of pain and knowing Johnny he won’t admit to it. He’s having difficulty breathing because of the pain. He can’t even move in bed without agony coursing through him. When’s he next due some pain relief?” 

“I’ll check and be in with something if it’s due. I gave him some Demerol earlier for his physio. I’ll be along shortly to assess him.” She then turned and sorted out her patients’ drug charts looking for Johnny’s to see if he could have anything.

“Thank you” Roy said before returning to Johnny’s room.

“So, did you find my nurse and ask about my pain relief, Roy?” Johnny gave his friend a stare that would’ve had lesser men squirming but Roy was used to Johnny’s antics just as Johnny was used to his.

“Yes, and yes. She’s checking it out. You’re obviously in pain and if you have the opportunity to relieve it, you should use it.” Roy was beside Johnny’s bedside by now and had slipped his hand over his partner wrist and was surreptitiously taking Johnny’s pulse and feeling the warmth of his skin. He was surprised to feel a warmer skin temperature than normal. Johnny wasn’t flushed in the face and his skin wasn’t overly hot. Johnny’s pulse was fast and bounding under his fingertips. He didn’t look dehydrated; Roy was pretty sure it was all related to pain. Sometimes his pal’s stubbornness did his head in.

Joanne broke the sudden tension in the room by asking Johnny if he knew when he would be allowed to eat again as she would bring him in some treats to have. The atmosphere returned to one of relaxed camaraderie and soon the earlier tension was forgotten until the nurse entered bearing a syringe filled with pain relieving medicine. Johnny tried to put off the inevitable saying that it would only make him drowsy and he wanted to stay awake while his friends were here. He promised to take it when his friends left. The nurse relented and made Roy promise to find her to let her know they were leaving so she could finally give her recalcitrant patient his analgesia.

Having won that battle, Johnny spent the next 30 minutes talking to the De Soto’s when Mike entered the room. Cap came next after another 10 minutes and finally Chet and Marco arrived not long after that. Conversation veered towards that fateful day when Little Red and Johnny got separated. Johnny couldn’t throw any light on the situation. However, the police had managed to find a few things out with the use of fingerprints and security cameras at the burger joint. 

Cap was telling an enthralled audience what had been discovered so far. “The brother of your victim on that call out to The Hood had apologized to his sick brother for not visiting sooner. Get this, he told his brother that the truck he took from the firemen got stolen while he was at Spike’s place. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of mentioning this in front of Dr. Brackett.”

“You’re kidding me?” Johnny announced incredulously before slumping back on the bed trying to squelch the pain resonating through his chest.

“If you don’t lie still I won’t tell you anymore. Now settle down Gage as there’s quite a bit to be told.” Cap went on to relate the known facts of Little Red’s joyride round The Hood that day while everyone was looking for them both. “The police had the fingerprints on file for one Pedro Hernandez and he tried to put the blame on his cohort in crime, Alphonso Garcia. Both men are being charged with grand larceny. Alphonso told the police what they had done that day with Little Red and has pleaded guilty hoping to get a reduced sentence. He’s heard all about prison from his friend Pedro apparently and he isn’t too keen on going there.” Cap ended on a chortle. 

“So while I’m getting mugged, Little Red is going to dens of iniquity, parties, a chop shop, drag racing, and burger joints. I know whose day I would rather of had.” Johnny stated as he grabbed his chest and tried to stifle a cough which threatened to erupt from deep in his chest. No matter how hard he tried the cough escaped and soon a deep hacking cough rented the air in room 433 as Johnny gasped for breath between his rib splitting cough. 

Tears freely poured down his pain filled face and his tortured ragged breathing had all his visitors concerned. Roy brought a spittoon over from the bedside locker and Johnny spat blood stained yellow sputum into the receptacle, when he had enough breath to do so. His chest was heaving and several low moans escaped Johnny’s lips as the pain clawed its way to the center of his being. Cold sweat broke out across his skin which was a deep red before his body slumped and his muscles went lax against the hospital sheets. Johnny had fainted with the pain. 

Roy quickly grabbed Johnny wrist and felt the strong pulse under the clammy skin against his fingertips. Fresh blood was oozing down his chest tube and the chamber was quickly filling up. Roy hit the emergency button and within minutes Johnny’s nurse and half the floor staff were crowded into Gage’s room. 

“He had a coughing spell and I think he’s done something to his chest. There’s more blood in his chest tube. He passed out with the pain,” Roy told the nurses that were now putting the blood pressure cuff on a limp arm and getting other vitals.

One of the nurse’s ushered all the visitors out, including Roy so that they could assess their patient. Everyone stood just outside the door. Chet was leaning on the door trying to eavesdrop on what was being said inside the room. Cap had to tell the stocky Irishman to move away from the door. “We will find out soon enough, Kelly.”

A nurse came out and went to the phone at the nurse’s desk and paged Dr. Lyons. Meanwhile noises were heard inside the room. Now that the immediacy seemed to be over, a couple of nurse’s left the room while two nurse’s remained. The stairwell doors opened and Dr. Lyons entered the 4th floor. The nurse at the station gave the doctor a brief update and then Dr. Lyons made his way into Johnny’s room. The men tried seeing what was happening as the door to Johnny’s room opened but any view was obscured by the tall figure of the orthopedic surgeon and the door closing quickly behind him. Another nurse came out of Johnny’s room and went up to the ward phone and after speaking to someone, went and got a needle and syringe and a bag of ice. She rushed back into room 433. She came out again carrying a blood filled syringe in the bag of ice and took the sample down to the lab for blood gas analysis.

Malcolm came out of the elevator trundling the portable x-ray machine in front of him. He asked Mike to open the door for him and then went into the room of their sick friend.  
Everyone came out as Malcolm took the pictures and Dr. Lyon explained to Roy and the other men what he thought had happened. The chest x-ray and blood gas results would help to confirm his suspicions. 

Within 20 minutes Johnny was diagnosed with bibasal pneumonia secondary to atelectasis. His chest tube had irritated the pleural lining from the coughing and that was why he had fresh blood in the tube which was now settling. Dr. Lyons requested a sample to be taken from the chest drainage to be sent for cultures. In the meantime, he charted stronger IV antibiotics and increased his vital recordings from 4 hourly to 1 hourly. He informed the men of 51’s that if Johnny continued to deteriorate, he would go back to ICU where he would be intubated until he was over this crisis. It wasn’t just Roy’s heart that did a flip flop when they heard that. 

When they went back into the room Johnny was once again wearing a face mask delivering high flow oxygen. His rapid short and shallows breaths fogged the plastic and obscured his lips from view. He was at a 60-degree angle with pillows propped up behind him.

“Well, Junior, it looks like you took a step backwards.” Roy said as he held his friend’s hand. This time the warmth of the skin was surprising. Roy stretched out a hand and felt Johnny’s brow. Yep, definitely a low grade fever, Roy thought.

Joanne brushed the sweaty bangs away from his eyebrows and looked at the slightly flushed face that looked more relaxed. Gone were the stress lines around his eyes and mouth. His jaw was laxer and highlighted his high cheekbones. He looks so young and innocent, she thought as she wiped his forehead with her cool hand. Johnny stirred and followed her hand with a turn of his head. His eyes opened briefly and she hushed him back to sleep. Closing his eyes slowly, that’s exactly what Johnny did. The door opened and his nurse entered with a bag of IV antibiotics. His new regime had started. Everyone made it out of the room so that they could talk without waking Johnny.

\---***---

Johnny ended up back in ICU as his breathing deteriorated and his ability to breathe deeply and cough became ineffective. The pneumonia took a stronger hold and severely incapacitated his respiratory system. It was decided not to intubate him as he really needed to cough and the ventilator was no substitute for the real thing. Regular low doses of analgesia were given to help him ride out the pain with coughing and chest physio and respiratory therapy. However, even the analgesia had to be carefully monitored as they didn’t want to suppress his breathing and coughing reflex in any way.

Johnny was totally miserable. The pneumonia wasn’t letting up and every breath hurt. His fever had risen regardless of the antibiotics and cooling cares didn’t resolve the heat coursing through his tired and battered body. His headache was still there, maybe not as strong as before but strong enough to let him know he had a skull fracture. When he moved unintentionally, usually from a coughing fit, he could not only hear his ribs grate against one another he could feel it too. His pain escalated to new heights when this happened. He finally begged his attending to put him under and to wake him up when he was over the pneumonia, headaches and fever. He could’ve cried when the attendant refused.

On the second day in ICU after a particularly harsh bout of coughing, the nurse that was wiping away his tears, noticed the cloudy output from his chest tube. It was quickly filling up the chambers. She went and got a new drainage chamber to put on and asked her colleague to let Johnny’s doctors know. By the time the doctors arrived in ICU, Johnny had filled 2 underwater sealed chest drains. Each took 2000 milliliters. The third container was half full and still the milky fluid was pouring in. Drs. Brackett and Cummings stood at the end of Johnny’s bed conferring in low voices after seeing what was coming out of his chest tube.

“Johnny, you have a chylothorax. It would appear that your thoracic duct which carries a lot of fats and lymph, known as chyle, has become blocked and ruptured. The duct runs through your pleural space and the fluid is coming out of your chest tube. It isn’t that uncommon with the two surgeries you had but we would’ve preferred you not to develop it. We need to do an x-ray to see the extent of the effusion and this will also help us to determine the most likely place of the rupture. However, in order to get that last piece of evidence we need to inject some blue dye into you so it will show the leak on the x-ray.” Brackett then went and listened to the right side of Johnny’s chest and felt happy that there was no pleural rub going on there. “I think we can safely say its only on your left side.” 

Johnny nodded his head that he understood everything. He was too tired for words. He really was hoping that this new development would mean he would be sedated and intubated. He had had days of this pain and he was over it.

Arrangements were made and Johnny was wheeled down to radiology with Brackett and Cummings in tow. The dye was injected into his foot and then a series of pictures were taken. The doctors found what they were looking for and saw the size of the effusion. Johnny’s left lung was severely compromised and it was decided to insert another chest tube to help remove the fluid compressing his lung. 

Once Johnny was settled back into his ICU bed and his two chest tubes in place, Drs. Brackett and Cummings were discussing the various treatment options. A conservative approach was decided but there would be a low threshold for surgery if there was no immediate change in the output. Johnny was losing too much nutrients and immunity with the chyle leakage. Right now he couldn’t afford to lose either. 

A bolus of cream was entered down his nasogastric tube. Johnny couldn’t believe that that was all he needed to plug the hole. Unfortunately, the treatment didn’t work as effectively as either doctor wanted. Johnny was scheduled to go to the OR for another tricky operation. Although scared, part of his brain was pleased as it meant he would have some respite from the pain he was suffering. A pain he now knew was in part caused by this new complication. Roy was contacted and told of the new development. He then let the rest of the guys know when they returned from a call out to a dumpster fire. 

“Jeeze, can Johnny never get a break!” Chet said as he realized his pigeon was facing surgery and his health was already impaired. He worried for his friend and secretly said a few prayers for his sick buddy.

Roy wanted to be on call from Rampart but didn’t feel it was fair on his temporary partner who was new to L.A. and at least at the station they could all support each other if it came to that. 

\---***---

“There’s the little culprit!” Dr. Cummings said to no-one in particular. “Suction and clamp, NOW.” Cummings wasn’t in a good mood. It had taken a lot longer to find the leak. What the x-ray didn’t show was that there were two leaks. The second was behind the first and having repaired the first leak the chyle kept filling the surgical field when it shouldn’t. Frustrated with this new complication he was taking it out on the poor scrub nurse, and anyone else within earshot. It made for a tense and quiet OR. They were now into their third hour and Dr. Cummings was finally seeing the end in sight when he found the second leak. He realized he had been unduly surly and snappish to all the OR staff and he would apologize at the end when the patient was safely closed up and ready to go to the Recovery Room. 

After three and a half hours on the operating table Johnny was finally taken into the Recovery Room and handed over to a nurse who had looked after Johnny the last time he was in there only last week. He now had another chest tube but the newest one was coming out of his right side. The approach to do the surgery had to be from the right side of the chest cavity and unfortunately Johnny’s right lung was nicked by the surgeon causing a partial collapse. Hence an extra half hour on the operating table while the tube was inserted and then x-rayed to ascertain it was in the correct place.

A weary and sweat soaked Dr. Cummings did apologize to the OR staff before he made his way to the OR staff lounge to replenish his fluids and call Dr. Brackett. Dr. Lyons was at an orthopedic conference in Santa Monica and his patient’s care was being undertaken by another colleague and Dr. Lyons resident.

To say that Brackett was surprised to hear about two leaks was an understatement but then this was Johnny they were talking about. “Well, I did warn you that he likes to develop complications. It wouldn’t be the Johnny Gage I know if he didn’t.” Kel said with a laugh.

“He sure has given me a run for my money. He should make a quick recovery, Kel. We nipped it early and with the three chest tubes in, we should see a marked improvement with his oxygenation status. Maybe now the patient can spend all his energy on fighting just the pneumonia. I’ll visit him before I leave the OR suite and see how he’s doing. I think we might just leave him intubated for today and wake him up tomorrow or the next day. I think his chest is too sore to allow proper ventilation right now.”

Kel agreed and Dr. Cummings informed the ICU nurse to have a ventilator set up for Johnny’s return. He went to his patient’s drug chart and prescribed sedation and muscle relaxant drugs to keep Gage under. He then went and drank two glasses of water to beat out the headache he was starting to develop. It had been a long day. He had been called to the hospital at 0400hrs when one of his other patients had deteriorated and he had to perform an emergency surgery on the patient who was in the next cubicle to Johnny. He still had rounds to do and his resident although very good wasn’t able to do everything yet. That would come in time with more experience. With a sigh Dr. Mark Cummings went to check on start rounds. He would check on his two ICU patients before leaving tonight. Who said the life of a surgeon was glamorous, he thought as his sore feet walked down the hallway towards the elevators. Forget the stairs, I’ll take the elevator and spare my feet a bit more walking.

Two hours after arriving in the Recovery Room, Johnny was taken back to his ICU cubicle and transferred onto his bed, put onto the ventilator and hooked up to machines and wall suction. His chest tubes were attached to the side of the bed so that they couldn’t be knocked over or pulled out accidentally. Bloods were taken and once everything was in place the routine tasks for their patient’s cares resumed.

Kel phoned Station 51 and spoke to Roy and informed him that the operation had been successful, but that Johnny now had three chest tubes in and it was decided that Johnny was to stay intubated and sedated for a short time just until his chest was stronger and the pain was weaker. Right now his chest was weaker and the pain was stronger. Roy thanked Dr. Brackett for keeping him updated and then went and told his shift mates the latest on Johnny. Even Roy had to ask about chylothorax as it was something he hadn’t heard of before and he found out that they weren’t that common so of course Gage was going to develop it, wasn’t he? He never did anything by half, that buddy of his.

\---***---

It was three days before the sedation was stopped and they let Johnny wake up naturally. His pneumonia was improving. His lung function was stronger and the pleural effusion on his left side was receding nicely. His right lung collapse was resolving and the drain was clamped and if the lung was still satisfactory tomorrow it would be removed. His left lung was still sporting a 20 to 25 % collapse. The drains were still removing fluid although not milky anymore. The proximal tube would be clamped as well and possibly removed tomorrow if the one remaining drain proved to be sufficient for drainage purposes.

Later in the afternoon, Johnny started to move his legs and flung his left arm over his eyes. The ventilator alarm kept going off as Johnny tried to breathe over it and his nurse was kept busy resetting it and monitoring his tubes and drains as he became more mobile in the bed. Having got himself into a comfortable position he stayed still for some time before he once again started to move. This time he was lighter and the pain signals made him more restless and before too long he was trying to pull out the tube in his throat as it was irritating him. His nurse caught his arm and held it beside the bed while her colleague paged Dr. Brackett to the ICU.

“Well, it looks like our young paramedic is waking up. Let’s turn off the vent and see how well his breathing is.” Kel instructed Johnny’s nurse.

They both watched the lean but muscled chest rise and fall slowly and shallowly. Johnny’s respiratory rate sat at 12 and his oxygen level was just starting to fall off as he wasn’t breathing deeply. His face gave the occasional frown or grimace when a jag of pain shot through his chest and ribs. 

“Hmmm, I think we might be doing things too soon.” No sooner had Kel finished saying that when an alarm went off on one of the monitors signaling that Johnny’s oxygen level in his blood was now at 91%. “Let’s keep him under a bit longer. Reset the ventilator to its previous settings nurse, and we will try this again tomorrow. I’m not happy with his breathing.” Kel then went and wrote instructions into Johnny’s notes and reviewed his latest blood results and fluid balance chart. Happy with what he saw, he left to go back down to his ER. The nurse was getting another syringe of propofol and rocuronium to help sedate him and relax his muscles.

The next day 51 was off shift and Roy came to visit before going home to catch up on some much needed sleep. He was hoping that Johnny’s breathing would be stronger and that he would be successfully weaned off the ventilator. He was concerned when Brackett told him his partner was still too weak to come off the ventilator yesterday when he dropped a patient off in the ED. Roy was about to go up and see Johnny when they got summoned to another man down call. Their shift yesterday had been busy and every attempt Roy had tried to make to see Johnny got thwarted. 

He now sat beside Johnny’s bed for the allocated ten minutes and talked to his friend telling him about yesterday’s runs and how Chet had fallen for his own prank as he was that tired he had forgotten he had booby trapped the kitchen cupboard and got a face full of water when he opened it to get a cup for some coffee. “I’ll come back later on today, Junior. Dr Brackett's looking at waking you up today and if you behave yourself, take you off the vent and remove that breathing tube. You show him that it’s time for it to happen, okay. I’ll be back with Joanne before schools out. Be good and behave yourself, Johnny.”

Throughout the course of the day Chet, Marco, Mike and Cap came and sat with Johnny for the ten minutes they were allowed. They had all come at different times and had missed each other by an hour or more. Johnny was once again getting restless and breathing over the ventilator. This time round his breathing was stronger and his oxygen levels remained in the mid to high 90’s. Brackett was happier with what he saw and decided that Johnny and the ventilator would be parting ways today.

Johnny was becoming agitated and kept trying to pull the tube from his mouth. It wasn’t until the fourth time that the nurse asked him to open his eyes that Johnny finally complied. His drugged glazed eyes lazily searched the room and blinking heavily he finally focused on the pretty brunette nurse that was looming over him. She faded in and out until finally became one image. Liking what he saw, he gave her a lopsided grin and set the alarm off on the ventilator as he took a deep breathe over the machine.

“Easy, Johnny. You’re gonna be OK. You’re just waking up in the ICU. You had an operation to fix your lungs, remember? You’re doing real well and gonna be alright,” his nurse told him.

Johnny kept his eyes on her and searched his memory to validate what she said. It all came back to him then. The pain, the pneumonia, the respiratory therapist and the chylothorax. He gave a small nod of his head to convey he remembered and that he was alright. 

The nurse guided Johnny through the removal of the breathing tube. He coughed at the end of its removal and found it didn’t hurt as much as he feared or remembered from last time. For the first time since he had woken up in the alleyway he thought he was on the road to recovery. This thought gave him hope and determination that he was going to do everything within his power to get out of the hospital as quickly as possible. He really had had enough of the place.  
He was dismayed to find he still had a chest tube. He was amazed to find out that he had had 3 chest tubes in at one stage and that two of them had been removed only that morning.

His voice was a little hoarse and gravelly and his throat was slightly sore but he had had worse with smoke inhalation so he discounted the pain from that and focused more on his ribs. It was a constant dull ache. Both sides hurt now, not just the left. Dr. Cummings had been up and reviewed his patient and informed him of the operation findings. He was pleased with the latest chest x-rays and blood results. 

“You keep this up Mr. Gage, and you will be in a regular room in a surgical ward very soon.” Dr. Cummings told him, “I think we can even start you on a light diet now too. Your stomach should be well rested and healing nicely by now so we will start you out with a liquid diet and see how that goes. We will keep the TPN going to help you get your energy back. Your nutrition status is borderline from the loss of all that chyle. It had a lot of nutrients and energy in it and we need to play catch up for a little while.”

Johnny beamed a brilliant smile. He would do whatever he could to be out of ICU and then out of the hospital. If it meant beef bouillon and Jell-o then so be it. After Dr. Cummings left, his nurse helped him into a more upright position and it was like this that Roy and Joanne found him. Fast asleep in a 90-degree angle. The nasal cannula was sitting comfortably over his face and the gentle stream of oxygen keeping his blood oxygen reading at 98%. Roy noticed that Johnny had not only lost the ventilator but two chest tubes as well, since his morning visit.

For the first time since Johnny and Little Red had got separated, Roy felt that things were taking a turn in the right direction. He gave his beautiful and compassionate wife a look that belied the relief he was feeling. Knowing Roy as well as she did, she knew he was feeling immense guilt for leaving the keys in the squad. The events that followed weren’t of his doing but she had had great difficulty getting Roy to see that. She was hoping that Johnny could help assuage her husband’s guilt. She knew that Johnny held a special place in Roy’s heart. He was the brother Roy never had, his true best friend, after her of course.

They quietly looked at their friend sleeping. He looked pain free and comfortable. They didn’t wake him and when their time was up they left just as quietly and asked Johnny’s nurse to let him know they had been in but decided to let him sleep as he needed that more. They would come back tomorrow. Hopefully he would be awake then.

\---***---

“So you’re trying to tell me I came up with a cockamamie idea to jump off a bridge or a crane with nothing more than a huge rubber band tied around my ankles. You’re pulling my leg aren’t you. I would surely remember something like that. It sounds like the most farfetched thing in the world. I can’t see how I got that idea from seeing a chained pen fall off a counter at a bank. No one would want to do anything so harebrained and unsafe as trust a piece of rubber from keeping them from falling to their death. And another thing, Roy, how were they to get down or up once they stopped bouncing at the end of the rubber band. Huh, did I tell you that? They would be suspended in air, just dangling there like a pen on a chain---- Oh, now I see it ----- Hey Roy, you know that could work. Ok, I’ve got a few things to sort out, like how to get them back up or down, whatever, but what say you and I work on it and become partners. We’ll hafta to give it a real catchy name like, um .... like .....Help me out here Pally. Roy, are you paying any attention! Roy, where are you going?”

“Visiting time is over, Junior. Sorry I can’t stay any longer. I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up and take you home or back to our place. Jo’s got the spare room ready if you decide to stay with us. I know the kids would love to have you stay. Jenny has polished up on her nursing skills by using Chris as a guinea pig so that she will know exactly what to do to you, I mean for you. I’ll let you think about it and you can tell me tomorrow Johnny.”

With that Roy who had been walking backwards towards the door quickly made his way through to the corridor and relative peace and quiet. Johnny had been talking nonstop about that idea he had the day of Little Red’s ride in the hood. Trust Dixie to remind him. Roy had endured a Johnny rant for the last 30 minutes about his idea. Roy now had a headache and was still amazed that Johnny had a voice left after all that talking. He’s definitely ready for discharge tomorrow, Roy thought as he walked to the elevator to take him to the ground floor. 

Roy had gone to apologize to his friend for leaving the keys in Little Red. He was still feeling guilty and felt he owed Johnny more than just an apology. Johnny had suffered so much over the past three weeks. His chest still bore the evidence of his recent illness and surgeries. The bruising had faded to a light dirty yellow on his back and sides. His headaches were less common but still occurred from time to time but not to the same intensity. 

Roy spied the spirometer on top of Johnny’s bedside cabinet. It sent fresh waves of remorse through him as he remembered Johnny using it with little tears rolling down his cheeks as the pain made itself known. He had walked in on one of his chest physio sessions and saw the tenseness and pain etched on his friend’s face as the therapist made him cough deeply and pummeled his chest to loosen any secretions. No wonder he always looked worn out and in agony after he had that done. The therapy looked quite brutal when you considered that he had broken ribs.

The one thing that helped his discharge was his unfailing appetite, and lots of Joanne’s cooking with additional treats from Mama Lopez and Mrs. Stanley. His weight hadn’t plummeted as badly as was feared. The TPN helped to maintain his baseline nutritional status but the vast quantities of food he consumed helped to put the four pounds he lost in the first ten days back on.

Johnny, knowing Roy as well as he did, had told him he wasn’t to blame for what happened, and Roy realized that sometimes these things just happened; more so to his partner than anybody else he knew. They had sat down during a visit earlier in the week and Johnny had helped to absolve his best friend from carrying the needless guilt around with him anymore. Johnny had had a lot of practice doing this for Roy over the years. He always got hurt physically and Roy carried the emotional pain. They made a great team they both decided.

As Roy walked slowly to the elevators he smiled to himself. It was good to have his friend back, ranting and all. Roy smile stayed on his face as the elevator doors opened and he stepped in with three other visitors and pushed the ground floor button. 

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Any mistakes as with all my stories are completely my own. I like to think of it as creative writing or spot that error. LOL


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